Thank you so much Rab for these photographs. They have made my day, I,m transfixed by them. All the "ghosts" from my past family seem to be coming back to me. I can imagine standing on the steps of St. Francis' and trying to pick all the pennies being thrown from wedding cars, and looking up, to my Nana at her window opposite. My parents were married there in 1940 by Father James and I remember a Father Columba. All my maternal side were from that area and my Dads side were from Nuneaton Street in Bridgeton. Regards Irene (Thayne) Seddon.

I was interested in the picture on the first page of the Rutherglen Road just as it junctions with Crown Street. On the left of the picture is a church surrounded by scaffolding. I'm sure that was St.Margaret's and St. Mungo's ... which was our club-house ca. '63/'64. That was the church which we decorated internally after scrounging paints and material from any merchants who would give them to us. Shortly after that the church sent a vicar ... at that time the church only had a caretaker lookin' after it as it was not in use ... and the vicar - a big Yankie do-gooder - wanted to open it up to all the local gangs. 6 weeks after his plan took fruit the police closed it down ... even to us who had been using it and lookin' after it un-noticed for absolute ages.

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"Destiny is a good thing to accept when it's going your way. When it isn't, don't call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.” ― Joseph Heller, God Knows

Gorbals Hero!James Stokes VC (6 February 1915 - 1 March 1945) was a Scottish recipient of the Victoria Cross, the highest and most prestigious award for gallantry in the face of the enemy that can be awarded to British and Commonwealth forces. Both his parents were Irish and Stokes regarded himself as being Irish as well as Scottish.Stokes was 30 years old, and a private in the 2nd Battalion, King's Shropshire Light Infantry, British Army during the Second World War. He was killed in action on 1 March 1945, in Kervenheim, Rhineland, Germany where his actions earned him the Victoria Cross.

In Germany, on 1st March, 1945, during an attack on Kervenheim, Private Stokes was a member of the leading section of a platoon pinned down by heavy fire from a farm building. Without waiting for orders Private Stokes dashed through the enemy fire, to disappear inside this building. The fire stopped, and he reappeared, wounded in the neck. This valiant action enabled the platoon to advance to the next objective. Private Stokes was ordered back to a Regimental Aid Post, but refused to go. The platoon then encountered heavy fire from a house on the left. Again without waiting for orders, Private Stokes rushed the house by himself and all firing from it ceased. His gallantry enabled his platoon, which he subsequently rejoined bringing five prisoners, to continue the advance. In the final assault Private Stokes, now severely wounded, once more dashed to the objective through intense fire. He finally fell, firing his rifle to the last. It was found that he had been wounded eight times in the upper part of the body. Private Stokes's one object throughout this action was to kill the enemy, at whatever personal risk. His magnificent courage, devotion to duty, and splendid example inspired all around him, and ensured the success of the attack at a critical moment; moreover, his self-sacrifice saved his Platoon and Company heavy casualties. —London Gazette, 13 April 1945

Such a shame that no-one involved in this pic is around anymore, may they all R.I.P.It's such an iconic photograph as these were supposedly poverty stricken children who had that gallus look about them with big smiles on their coupons in the face of grim lives at the time, but they were children who didn't know what poverty was. To me, it's a defining photograph of a changing world; optimistic about the future and hoping for the best.

These are lovely words, who you are talking about is my grandfather, and it means so much to me and my family that people care so much about it though he is still around with us and always will be .

That could be a picture of me and my brother living in Govan in the forties and fifties.We didn't know we were poor either. It was quite safe in that era for kids to wander about quite freely and we often went for messages to the local shops.

jwrobbo

Ah would totally agree. I too was brought up in govan in the 40s and 50s and the picture could have been govan road elderpark street or greenfield street or indeed any street and the kids in the picture could have been me or my brothers or any of oor pals because thats the way we dressed and looked.

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